Page 64 of Silver Fox Puck

Kenzie shifts slightly, pressing closer, her face tucked into my chest. My pulse kicks up. Because she’s still here too.

She hasn’t moved. She hasn’t bolted.

I should take that as a good thing. But instead? It just makes the weight in my chest heavier.

Because now? Now there’s no pretending this didn’t mean something. No pretending this was just a game.

I tighten my grip on her waist, my fingers flexing slightly, unsure if I’m pulling her closer or bracing myself to let her go.

Her breathing is slow. Even. She’s asleep. And somehow, that feels more intimate than anything we just did.

What the hell is she doing to me?

I exhale, forcing myself to relax. I’ll deal with this in the morning.

Right now? Right now, I’m just going to let myself have this.

Because deep down, I already know—

I just crossed a line I can’t come back from.

Chapter 13 – Kenzie

Iwake up to an empty bed.

Which should be a relief. Should make it easier to pretend last night never happened. But when I roll over and see the faint indent of his head on the pillow beside mine?

The air in my lungs turns thick. Heavy. Because Grant Maddox didn’t just sleep with me. He stayed.

And for a man who doesn’t do attachments, who doesn’t break his own rules—

That means something.

I push the covers off, moving fast, like I can outrun the weight settling in my chest.

Except the second I swing my legs over the edge of the bed—I catch the scent of coffee before my feet hit the floor. Bold. Fresh.

Then, a deep, familiar voice stops me dead.

“Morning, Flight.”

I freeze. Because he’s still here. Standing in the doorway to my bedroom, shirtless, casually drinking a cup of coffee like he’s done this a hundred times before.

Like he belongs here and is making himself at home. And maybe that’s what messes with my head the most.

Not the sex.

Not the way he completely owned me last night.

Not even the fact that I let him stay.

It’s the way he’s acting like this is normal. Like we’re something. Like I didn’t spend the last few weeks convincing myself this was nothing. I force a breath, raking a hand through my hair. Stay cool.

“Don’t you have a team to coach?” I mutter, pushing off the bed and heading straight for the kitchen.

He smirks, leaning against the counter.

“Practice doesn’t start for another two hours.”

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